Sweet Things Are The Hardest
by NextCompanion
Summary: It's all out war when Dean and Buffy try to make cookies. Total fluff. Oneshot. BuffyxDean


"Stop it." Buffy smacked his hand with the spoon. "There won't be any dough left to make cookies if you eat it all."

"But they taste so much better this way." Dean pouted but removed his fingers from the bowl. (She had already broken one spoon while they were cooking. He didn't really want to have to replace all of Bobby's cooking materials.)

It was a rare day off. No cases, no monsters. Buffy and Dean had decided that absolutely, 100% meant cookies. Fresh cookies. They wanted to surprise Bobby and Sam, who were out getting groceries. Or maybe ammo. They hadn't really been listening.

Buffy bit back a smile and resumed stirring the batter. "Pass me the chocolate chips?" she said, sticking out her hand.

Dean grabbed the (now half-empty) bag of chocolate chips and stuck them behind his back. "What chocolate?" He smirked, grabbing her outstretched hand in his own.

"Come on," she laughed, leaving the mixing bowl on the counter to try and reach around Dean. He easily evaded her, still holding her hand in his own.

"There's no chocolate here," he laughed, dodging from side to side.

"You're ridiculous," Buffy said, reaching up her finger to swipe the corner of his mouth. "See?" She pulled her finger away, now brown and gooey. "Chocolate."

"You should really help me clean that up," he said, leaning down to kiss her. She ducked behind him as he leaned, quickly swooping behind him to grab the bag of chocolate chips, before sauntering back over to the counter.

"You're gonna have to be faster than that if you want to catch yourself a Slayer," she said with a grin.

Perhaps it was the taunt that did it. Or perhaps it was Buffy, standing there in Bobby's kitchen of all places, wearing a frilly little apron and a pony tail. Or perhaps it was the fact that as she went back over to the counter, she casually dipped her fingers in the cookie dough, taking a large chunk of the cookie dough Dean had just been told not to eat, and stuck it in her mouth.

But whatever it was, Dean knew he would live to regret his next actions.

"Oh yeah, Slayer? Catch this!" He grabbed the open bag of flour from the counter and hurled it over to Buffy. There was a mini explosion in the kitchen, and the kitchen filled with white smoke. Dean's eyes watered, and he couldn't see anything. But he could still hear her.

"Oh no you didn't!" she yelled.

Dean was on the move now, blindly flailing his arms out as he tried to find the kitchen exit. That girl could be dang quiet when she wanted to be. Something about super Slayer stealth. He stumbled across the table and blindly grabbed a cookie sheet to protect himself.

"HEEEYAAAAHH" It was too late. Ball of cookie dough were suddenly flying through the air, smacking Dean on his head, his arms, even his legs. He reached out, found the bottle of vanilla, and began spraying it in the direction of the cookie dough missiles.

The flour was clearing now, and he could see that she had stationed herself next to the fridge. A wise decision. There was both an escape route, and more ammunition, nearby. He thought he had her when he was throwing scoops of sugar at her, but she just blocked it with the fridge door. He reached for his last ammo.

The butter. Perfect. He knew where this was going.

In one last desperate attempt, he ran at her, arm posed to attack. Buffy, realizing what was happening, dashed toward the sink. They collided, Buffy scrambling to reach the sprayer, while Dean grabbed her waist in one arm, simultaneously lifting her away from the sink, and smashing butter into her hair with his other hand.

She squealed and tried to wriggle further away from him. Her arms stretched, but she couldn't quite reach the sprayer. So instead, she went for the half full pot of water sitting in the sink. She twisted, splashing it all over Dean, and they both slipped and fell to the floor.

They laughed for a full fifteen minutes, arms and legs tangled up in each other. Buffy had almost composed herself when she saw a wad of cookie dough lodged in Dean's ear and promptly fell back on the floor giggling. Dean, seeing Buffy's apron (of which she was so proud) splattered with brown sugar and vanilla, laughed even harder.

Finally, when they had both settled down, he pulled her close to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. They lay looking at the ceiling, still breathing hard.

"You smell like cookies," Buffy laughed quietly, resting her hand on his chest.

He leaned his head to rest on hers, despite the greasy nature of it. "You smell like me," he said.

They had only been resting their eyes for a minute when they heard the front door open.

"Crap." Buffy swore, and the two of them scrambled off the floor to find Cas, Sam, and Bobby all staring at them, having returned from…. wherever they were. Buffy patted her hair, smiling as she watched Dean so the same thing. They looked at each other, and then noticed the carnage in the kitchen around them for the first time.

"What happened here?" Sammy said, completely dumbfounded.

"There's been a war." Cas said stoically.

"Damn idjits" was all Bobby said.


End file.
